


And I You.

by halelujah



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mama Stilinski Feels, Mentions of Stydia, Papa Stilinski feels, Sheriff's POV, lets just say there's feels in this, mentions of Kate Argent/Derek Hale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halelujah/pseuds/halelujah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John hears it, his heart clenches briefly in his chest, equal parts anguished and satisfied. </p>
<p>Anguished because he misses Claudia more, than he ever has then at that moment. Satisfied because Stiles has found it. He's found his very own love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I You.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. I'm posting this before Teen Wolf starts and everyone starts to lose their minds. Heh. Get it?
> 
> Anyway, it's my personal headcanon that Derek will have some difficulty saying I love you to Stiles. And I couldn't get it out of my head until I wrote it down. So yeah. Enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> [COME PLAY WITH ME!](http://hale-the-majesty.tumblr.com/post/72508306624/and-i-you)

When Stiles was younger, he always used to say that he wanted to have their love story, but with Lydia. John would worry, didn't want his son to have that thought because no matter what Claudia said, how they finally got to where they were now, wasn't all rainbows and lollipops. 

Maybe it was paranoia or him just being overprotective, but John would rather not have his son go through that. 

As it seems, Stiles' life was a lot more than just heartbreaks and making the Lacrosse team. No, it was filled with mythical creatures ready to kill, a banshee for a best friend, an Alpha for a brother and a werewolf for a boyfriend. 

Trust his kid to live in a more dangerous, Twilight-esque world. 

Though, having a Beta werewolf for a boyfriend has its merits, he's not going to lie. John knows Stiles will always be protected, and in the lifestyle he leads, it soothes him to know that. But, regardless of being supernaturally inclined or not, there will _always_ be relationship problems. 

The fact that he walks into his very own kitchen and finds a person who's of the supernatural, proves that theory. 

"You two have another fight?"

Derek startles, which tells John how lost in his own mind he is, if he hadn't heard him coming in. He looks like shit, to put it bluntly; hair dishevelled from constant fingers running through it, clothes rumpled and smudges under his eyes. 

It says something about this whole situation, that he doesn't even flinch when seeing Derek slumped over the table, waiting for Stiles to come home. 

Unsurprisingly, Claudia's done the very same whenever he stormed out of the house, a cloud of fury following his wake. John always came home though, and they'd finally talk about whatever sent them snarling in the first place, calmly. 

It's probably why he hasn't jumped into his cruiser looking for his pissed off son. 

It also might have to do with the fact that Stiles is the most stubborn person he's ever met, even more so than his mother. So John knows it would have been a moot point anyway to look for him. He won't get in the car if he doesn't want to. 

"I can't say it." Derek whispers brokenly, hands clenching on the table's surface. He swallows harshly. "I can't -- I can't even _write_ it. Stiles, he's been patient. He understands but, there's only so much 'actions speak louder than words' he can take, and I get that. I do. But does that make me selfish that I wanted him to take a little more?"

He knows what exactly Derek can't say, three little words that hold so much meaning; _I love you_. 

John lets out a sigh, shucks off his jacket before walking over to the fridge, grabbing two beers and unscrewing the lids to both. Placing one in front of the werewolf, he walks over to the other side of the table and sits down. 

In the near silence, Derek and him take a pull from the bottle before exhaling heavily. 

"Growing up in a broken home with an absent mother and an abusive father, I didn't have warm embraces. I didn't have one of my parents walking into the kitchen and saying 'good morning' with a smile on their face. I considered getting one knock to the back of my head, a gentle touch. Thought that was my reward for staying quiet and out of the way." The Sheriff began, ripping the paper tag from around the bottle. He lets out a small chuckle. "But then I met Claudia, and she was beautiful, inside and out. Always smiling, never afraid of what life would throw her way, telling people what she thought with no regard to consequences and repercussions."

Derek's watching him with an unreadable expression. Eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed together thinly. "I don't understand what I'm supposed to say."

"You're not supposed to say anything, you're supposed to listen." John smiles, leaning back in his chair and giving him a fond look. "What I'm trying to get across is; Dia and I were different. Two sides of the same coin. She was as bright as the sun and for awhile, I thought I was as dark as night could be. So when she insisted that she loved me, I froze before pushing her away. Hard. I just couldn't comprehend how she could love someone like me."

There's a crack then, a slight waver to the stoney mask the werewolf's wearing. Well, guess they both agree that having Claudia and Stiles loving them was undeserving. 

He continues on. "Dia kicked my ass seven ways to Sunday when she found out the reason why I hesitated, why I couldn't say it back."

"John, you don't -- you don't understand. My situation is nothing like yours. I know what love is, my mother made sure of that for everyone in my family. " Derek interrupts, shaking his head, gaze downcast. He takes a deep breath in, before straightening out the hunch of his shoulders to stare into his eyes. "The thing is though, I told Kate that... _that_. The next night my home was burnt down to the ground, my family in it."

So he's worried if he says it again, Stiles will be torn away from him. 

The Sheriff wonders when the ghost of that evil woman, will finally leave the man sitting across from him, alone. He knows the whole story now, isn't sure if Stiles does too, but can take an educated assumption that Argent did one hell of a number on him. That even though the scars aren't marring skin, they go a whole lot deeper, right down to the bone. 

He nods in agreement. "The situations aren't the same but son, the results are. I said those three words on an important day and it wasn't when I proposed, or on my wedding day. Wasn't even _to_ Dia. It was the day Stiles was born. I held him in my arms for the first time and told him, I loved him. It was open season from then on. I told my wife and son everyday that I loved them. I still do." 

Derek smiles brokenly, eyes closed. "So, I have to wait until I'm married to Stiles and have a son of my own, to tell him how I feel."

John shakes his head, though a warmth settles behind his ribs at knowing that Derek's in it for the long run, that thinking about spending the rest of their lives together, is something he ponders about. 

"You're not seeing the bigger picture, Derek. We were dating for years before I proposed. We were married for three years before Stiles came along. I had to compensate for not being able to return Dia's affections." He explains, tapping the table to get his attention. He's given a confused look, and the Sheriff decides to put him out of his misery. "She'd say I love you, I told her 'and I you'."

A contemplating look graces his face then just as the front door swings open, Stiles shuffling in with his hands in his pockets, eyes rimmed heavily in red. 

"And that's my cue to go," John says, picking up his bottle and heading towards the doorway. He cups the back of Stiles' head and reels him in, places a kiss to his brow and mutters softly, "Love you, son."

His reply is mumbled in his chest after his hugged tightly. 

He's just stepped into the hallway when he pauses, turns to face Derek still sitting in his seat, though his gaze is locked solely on Stiles. "Think about what we spoke about, Derek. I'm sure you can find something useful in there." 

****

John's just put the last suitcase in the boot when a pouty Stiles makes his way down the porch steps, a grinning Derek following silently behind him. 

"Do I have to go?"

Both his and Derek's eyebrow raises at that, silently questioning, _are you serous right now?_

Stiles rolls his eyes, flaps his hand at them dismissively. "Geez, I shouldn't have thought you joining my Dad in the Department was a good idea. It's gone and bit me in the ass." His eyes trace over the Deputy uniform Derek's wearing, his own eyebrow quirking slightly as his head tilts to the side. "And not in the fun way I like, either."

" _Stiles_." John scowls, scrubbing at his face tiredly. The end of this stupid curse can't come any faster. 

They get a cheeky smile in return, apparently that had nothing to do with the curse. He's going to shoot his son, he really is.

"But seriously, do I have to go? Me staying at Aunt Caroline's isn't going to make things better."

"You pissed off your neighbour who happened to be an old witch, Stiles. By stepping on her gnome and not apologising." Derek says, trying for stern despite the tips of his ears burning brightly. "You're lucky it's only a minor curse that's removed what little filter you have left."

And it's true. This witch could have changed the fabric of time if she wanted, but since, as Stiles has protested, the gnome had to be sacrificed in the name of saving the town from a malevolent spirit, who thought throwing garden tools and decorations at him would be fun, while he tried to exercise it. 

John can openly admit that his son almost had the pitch sold but muttered too loudly that, "'Sides, that little gnome was creepy as all fuck. It had to go."

Sufficed to say, Agatha wasn't happy. 

"Whatever you have to say about zucchinis and certain parts of anatomy of people you know, will fall on deaf ears." He says, grinning a little, okay a whole lot, evilly. 

This time it's both Stiles and Derek that blush. 

"I said I was sorry!" He objects, ignoring the way that he looks like he's praying the ground will swallow him up whole. "Doesn't mean you have to send me off to live with my Aunt who's deaf!"

"You nearly gave Mrs. Brown a heart attack in the produce aisle, son. I think that's means enough."

Stiles opens his mouth, most likely to verbally rip him a new one in a way Claudia would, whenever something set her off. Derek cups the nape of his neck then, pulls him in to placatingly murmur something in his ear. Whatever he says, has Stiles slumping into his side with a reluctant nod and muttered, "Okay."

"Good," he drawled, slamming the boot closed and making his way to the driver's side of the cruiser. "It's only for awhile, just until we clear this up. And then you're back. Besides, your Aunt Caroline hasn't seen you since your fifth birthday. It'll be nice for her to see you."

Leaning up against the door, John watches as Stiles steps up into Derek's space to place a kiss on the lips. 

"I love you," he says, mouth brushing against Derek's. 

The werewolf grins shyly, and says something that makes the Sheriff smile softly at the blue sky, hopes that Claudia's up above and watching too.

"And I you."


End file.
